


Tickled

by redcandle17



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Slit Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slit realizes Toast the Knowing is uneasy around him and sets about trying to reassure her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme prompt "Toast is learning to be a warrior and she often has to work with miraculously alive Slit. They get stuck somewhere alone together and Slit realizes suddenly that she's afraid of him. He does the only thing he can think of to show her she doesn't have to fear him: he tickles her mercilessly just like he would a new War Pup."

Someone had to have heard the noise of all that scrap falling. Others would come and dig them out soon. Slit had tried, but his efforts had only made the pile of scrap metal fall further in, leaving him and Toast the Knowing trapped in an even smaller space. He hoped she wasn’t one of those people who lost their heads when they found themselves enclosed in a small space. He peered at her, trying to see how she was doing.

She was plastered against the opposite side of their little nook, as far from him as she could get. It was too dark to make out much, but her eyes looked a little too wide and she was breathing a little too hard. Slit put his hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay,” he said.

Toast the Knowing shrieked and gouged her fingernails into his flesh as she tried to peel his hand off her.

Slit quickly snatched his hand back. He was about to become properly pissed off about being attacked when he’d been trying to be nice when he realized that _she was afraid of him._

It didn’t make any sense. She’d known him for thirty days. She was always wandering around down here in the repair bays and training areas, watching what the War Boys did and asking questions about everything and Slit had always tried to be accomodating. He’d been trying to help her reach something when they’d accidentally brought all this stuff tumbling down on their heads.

The only thing he could figure was, this was the first time she’d been alone with him. With nowhere to run to, nobody able to help, and no weapon on her. She’d attacked him because she’d thought he was attacking her.

Slit felt insulted and – it took him a while to identify the second feeling – hurt. He liked having other War Boys and treadmill rats and Wretched and ferals afraid of him. He was doing things right if they were scared of him.

New pups tended to be scared of him, too, and that Slit didn’t like. It made him feel like some sort of monster. He’d developed and perfected a tactic for making them stop being afraid. It always worked and they usually ended up liking him better than Nux.

Slit scowled at the thought of Nux. How come the former Immortan’s former Wives let Nux live at the top of the Citadel with them, but then this one acted like he was a feral liable to eat her or something? He let himself wallow in the unfairness of Nux always ending up better off than him.

Then he heard Toast the Knowing shuffling, presumably trying to make herself more comfortable without making contact with him. She was shiny and chrome and interested in war, and it made Slit feel downright miserable to know that she was afraid of him. He had to do it.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he cautioned, and then he attacked.

She wore a shirt that covered her arms and shoulders and breasts but left her stomach bare. Slit was able to tickle her sides easily. She shrieked and flailed, and he tickled under her arms.

“Are you _tickling_ me?” she asked between gasps of helpless laughter.

Slit didn’t answer because obviously he was indeed tickling her.

“Stop,” she gasped.

When he didn’t stop, he felt her fingers skimming over him, attempting to tickle him back. Slit grinned. He wasn’t ticklish, except for the bottom of his feet and his boots were safely on.

“I give up.” She was still laughing, but she sounded breathless.

Slit halted his attack. But having her in his arms like this now only reminded him that she was no War Pup. He quickly let go and this time he was the one to plaster himself against the wall.

“What was that about?” She sounded relaxed and even friendly. It’d worked. 

“Just trying to make you feel better.”

“Well, uh, thanks, I guess.”

Slit felt his face and neck heat suddenly. It was the strangest thing. Unpleasant but not painful. Was this a fever?

“You know,” Toast said. “We could both sit comfortably if you sat there with your legs that way and I leaned against you.”

“Yeah, good idea.” It could be a while before they were salvaged from under this heap.

They arranged themselves as comfortably as they could and waited in companionable silence. It turned out to be a long wait.

Slit began feeling drowsy. His throwing arm was getting stiff from being motionless, so he had to move it around Toast. She leaned into him and murmured wordlessly, and he realized she was already asleep. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes…

And startled awake at the clang of shifting metal and somebody shouting, “Oi! Anybody under there?”

“Yeah,” he shouted back. “Toast the Knowing has been trapped for half the day and she’s going to have your lazy balls for not coming sooner!”

Toast moaned sleepily, pulling away from him and trying to stretch. It was adorable. Slit frowned as soon as he’d finished the thought. ‘Adorable’ was a word he’d only ever used for the littlest Pups. Toast was going to have to learn to wake fully alert if she was going to be a warrior.

“Toast the Knowing, eh?” the voice on the other side called back. “Sounds an awful lot like some asshole named Slit.”

Slit savored the look on the other War Boy’s face when a gap finally appeared in the scrap heap and he came face to face with Toast. He immediately bowed and made the V8 salute.

“Just get us out,” Toast said.

When they were free and clear, Toast turned to Slit and told him, “See you tomorrow,” before she walked off.

Slit couldn’t stop grinning for hours – inadvertently scaring quite a few people, but nobody who mattered. This had been one of the best days of his half life.


End file.
